The Deed
by JaneDoe321
Summary: Guinevere's thoughts and motives about the final battle with the Saxons.


The Deed

When she had first seen him, she had not particularly cared for him.  
All she had seen was the possibility to get out of the hole alive and back to her people, a glimmer of hope that she could continue to fight for her freedom.  
She did not know why the Roman commander and his knights had saved her in the first place after fighting her people for more than a decade. But she had not dwelt on that. She had seized the opportunity to gain an ally for her cause.

She had indeed heard all the "fairy tales" about Arthur, his knights and their glorious deeds. She had not believed them, except for the part where he and his men were cruel and deadly fighters. She had seen their work and she knew they were highly skilled warriors. She could see that they would be of great value to her people and she had known from the first time she saw him, that Arthur was insecure enough to fall for her cause.

When she had started to approach Arthur all she had wanted was to win him over.  
But she had come to care for Arthur.  
She had seen him with his knights, she had seen that somehow the fairy tales held a grain of truth. The knights trusted their Roman commander, they fought with him and for him, even gave their lives for him and their brothers. Their bond was a deep and indestructible one.

She had seen that Arthur was not only the commander of the hated knights that had given her people such a hard time over the years. She had come to know the man behind the Roman uniform.  
He was an honorable and handsome man. He was honest and sweet. Content, fearless and strong but at the same time self conscious as a kid. He had had good intentions and she agreed that the perfect world he envisioned was indeed just that: perfect. She fought for freedom and for the equality of all men but she had known all along that neither Arthur nor her nor their children would live to see a world like that.

 _"We are not the polite people that live in poems._ "

Arthur had been hurt and sad to see his ideals crush. He had been blind to the reality that took place right before his eyes. He had always seen the best in the people and was oblivious to the hate, greed and slyness of those who thought only of their own advantages. To hear about Pelagius' fate had placed doubt on everything he believed in: Rome, his church, his position and the –already questionable- duty of the men that were dearest to him.  
But she had offered him a new purpose for his life, as a fighter and a leader for the freedom they so desperately needed, a purpose that came as close to his shattered dreams as possible.

But then there had also been Lancelot, one of Arthur's knights. Handsome, angry, with both feet on the ground and with no ethics whatsoever.

 _"No family, no religion. Do you believe in anything at all?"_

He had endangered her mission. He had been Arthur's right hand, his best friend and his conscience. He knew Arthur in ways she didn't and never would and she had hated him for that.  
Lancelot had seen the things the way they were without his commanders rose-colored moral-glasses, he had not been shy to speak his mind and he had always been brutally honest.  
He had been bound to convince Arthur of his way.

She could not have let that happen. She had tried to persuade him, too.  
She had seen his interest in her female features but she had underestimated the dark-curled Sarmatian.  
She had thought baring a bit skin and offering herself to him would buy him. She had seen the longing in his dark, deep eyes, but also the pain and anger. Lancelot would not be sweet-talked in another battle he didn't want to fight. He was a fighter, he was strong, he was skilled, he was handsome and somehow mysterious; but he was also a wild animal in a cage that would not be tamed. The Romans had held him in that cage too long already, stripping him bare of any ideals, dreams or goals besides surviving.

 _"I would have left you and the boy there to die."_

But Lancelot had not left her. He had come to save her today.

She could feel the last fleeting warmth of his dead body while she stroked his arm and buried her other hand in his dark curls that felt so soft despite being drenched in blood and sweat. She had closed his eyes, still black but lifeless and empty now, all emotions drained from them. His beautiful face was white, a cut on one of his high cheekbones, smeared with Saxons blood. The arrow still stuck in his chest.  
Only one hit, a fluke that took everything.

She had paid no attention to him during the battle. She had been intoxicated by the fight, had fought ferociously until she thought the time for her to go had come when she lay on the ground and the Saxon sword moved down aiming at her aching body. But it didn't hit her. A metal clinging sound had emerged instead. Lancelot had appeared out of nowhere and stopped the deadly blow. She had not lost any time and gotten back in the battle while Lancelot was fighting alongside her.  
Until she saw the arrow fly in his direction. Just a fraction of a second was all it took. She saw him throwing one of his swords and for a short moment she thought he was going to be fine, that the missile had not met its target.

He had saved her life and lost his in return, had wagered his freedom, his opportunity to return to his home-country and family for a cause she knew he didn't believe in. She had not understood why he had stayed to fight in the first place although she had not cared for it was her advantage.  
But she could see it now that Arthur was kneeling beside her, tears streaming down his ashen face, pain and hurt surrounding his crumbled figure.

 _"No family, no religion. Do you believe in anything at all?"_

He had stayed for Arthur.

Just like her, Lancelot had known that Arthur's perfect world would not happen. But he had stayed and fought for it anyway, alongside his former commander and friend. He had saved her for him, for Arthur and his beliefs because she could give Arthur hope and a purpose, the only things Lancelot couldn't.

There was something he did believe in after all: friendship.

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End file.
